Pure Creation
by GnarledAndKnotted
Summary: Heaven is mending & Metatron is dead. Castiel, searching for his grace, stumbles upon it. It rests in a field. The life form it created was a child. Sydney, a 16 year old student, discovers the truth of her birth and is revealed to be a nephilim, daughter of Castiel. (Destiel subtext included breifly for your pleasure)


_Cas! Cas come on man, snap out of it! _A familiar voice clouded my brain as I watched life move above the safe house. _So beautiful. _The grass seemed to dance with the creatures that explored its endless mysterious. Buzzing and crawling they explored their brilliant home; so perfectly pieced together by my father. _Where are you? _A year since heaven had been robbed of its knights, skinned of its guardians, and no answer from their king. Not a word, not a sign, nothing. Just silence. Cold, lonely silence; it seemed to hang over our heads like a raincloud.

"Come on man, get inside before you get somebody up here asking questions." Dean's voice pierced my thoughts. He has been happy lately, which is saying a lot considering what he has been through. You can't use the term happy lightly with the Winchesters, I mean it in a sincere form. They are beginning to enjoy life, as much as a hunter possibly could.

"Yes, I am coming." I turned on my heels, legs stiff from standing motionless for so long. I don't think the pain and weakness of being human will ever become familiar to me. I don't know how Dean and Sam can suffer as they do and not give up hope for a brighter, safer time. The eerie stillness of the world had me dreading every hour. There was nothing worse than being human. The creatures that walked on four legs or floated through the air on feathers had a simpler life. I followed Dean through the old wooden doors of our home. They referred to it as their "base" or "safe house" but never home. I don't think Sam or Dean could ever call a place they found safe, a place they can eat, talk, and sleep, and every sense of the word a home. I think they were scared if they did, they'd lose it.

"Hey Cas." Sam looked up from his computer to greet me, I responded with a nod and took a seat at the far end of the long table in back center of the main room. They were always busy. I watched Dean, dressed in the usual ripped jeans and long sleeved button up polo that laid open in the front revealing a black t-shirt underneath. He strolled into the kitchen, probably to grab some pie. Sam on the other hand was bent over the computer reading at the speed of light. He was most likely trying to find a case. The younger brother hated to be bored for too long, even if he could benefit from a break from killing monsters now and again.

"Find anything good?" I reached for the half-drunk beer in front of me. It can satisfy human extraordinarily faster than angels.

"I think I might have found something in Texas. A little place called Grassland; some murders have been going on in an old house. Typical vengeful spirit would be my guess." He looked at my through his brown neck-length mane that he called hair. _Great, another long boring road trip. _I guess it would be a good distraction though. We had gotten nowhere trying to figure out what had happened to my grace. Metatron was dead, and angels were beginning to find their grace and return to heaven. After I fell, and told Dean and Sam what had happened they had presumed my grace had been destroyed when Metatron used it to expel all the angels from heaven, but that wasn't the case. Grace can never be destroyed. It is pure energy and life, it creates and continues creating, and therefore it cannot be obliterated.

_Knock, Knock, Knock. _Someone or something was at the door. Sam tensed and Dean gracefully rounded the corner and looked through the peep hole placed in the center of one of the doors. I could tell by his expression it was not a threat.

"Hey bitches!" Charlie's sing-song yet edged voice filled the air. I grinned up at the little red head. Sam got up and wrapped the petite figure in a giant hug, his form nearly devouring her.

"Hey Charlie! We weren't expecting you, what's up?" Sam beamed down her as if she were his own sister, which she might as well have been.

"I was in town, thought I pop in and say hi, hi!" She waved her hand at me as I got up to join Dean and the other two in the center of the room. She was always a pleasant surprise, she had saved me awhile back when I had just became human, a werewolf had born down on me during a hunt. The clumsy feeling of legs on ice had sent me slipping into its grasps. If she hadn't shot it when she did, I wouldn't be here.

"What's got you so down, Castiel!?" She sprung over and hugged me tightly. Her warmth was welcomed by the cold that still hung on my thin shirt from the outside air. I guess she's picked up on my somber mood, I don't know how human noticed such things, but none of my emotions ever felt private.

"Oh, he's still down about not being able to find his angel juice." Dean boomed mockingly at me. It was true though. I was tired; tired of being human, tired of feeling helpless, just tired. I tried my best to give her a stupid smile, but it felt like I just managed to make myself look more pathetic than I already was.

"Cheer up! You'll get your wings back soon enough!" Charlie was definitely a ray of sunshine on the sad party that was happening in here.

"What do ya say we go get some drinks?" Dean grabbed his jacket and was herding us out the door before we had a chance to protest. I didn't want to protest anyways. We climbed the couple of stairs onto the gravel road outside the safe house and piled into the Impala. Sam hopped in the front, blocking my chance at shotgun once again. Instead I climbed into the back with Charlie and sat listening to Dean's same old collection of cassette tapes.

We pulled up to Sal's, the bar closest to home, and Dean's favorite. He parked the 67 Chevy and strolled in confidently. I'm convinced Dean thinks he owns every bar in the US.

"It's gonna be ok you know." Charlie leaned into me as we took at seat in the back of the bar.

"What?"

"Your grace; I wasn't kidding when I said you'll get it back. I've read about it, Angels are drawn back to their grace when they lose it, they find their way to it eventually. You will find it." What she said was true. I knew it was, I just didn't want to wait any longer. A year of showering, driving, and eating was enough for me; I didn't want to do it anymore.

"Ok, Thanks Charlie." I smiled down at her bright eyes. I wish being human was as fun as she made it look. I guess it probably was fun for her. She order us some shots, and I drank them as they came, which was too often, but I didn't care.

"Hey Sal," Sam had made his way over to us. Or I, Charlie was flirting with a bartender on the opposite end now. "two beers please." He sat one down beside me.

"I think you should stop taking shots about now." I looked up at him; my vision was bouncing around. I blinked to get it to go away. It didn't.

"Right, o..ok." I spat the words out at Sam, who looked mildly concerned; I don't know why I mean I was an angel, duh. Oh wait, no I'm not. I chugged the beer that was sitting in front of me. _Damn. At least I can get drunk as a human. _I leaned onto the counter, soaking my sleeve in the sweat of my beer. _Where's Dean? _I habitually looked up to find my friend in the crowd. There he was, flirting and chatting with three girls. Maybe I should do that, maybe Metatron was right, maybe I needed to suck it up and get a family. I drug my feet across the ground heading toward Dean.

"Hi." I let the words slip out as casually and as flirtatiously as possible.

"Hi Cas?"

"What Dean, I can't find a woman too?" I realized just then that I was facing Dean, not the girls.

"Sure, just go over there." He pushed me toward some girls at the bar. I tripped, my head was spinning now, this was not a good idea, but I had fallen right between some guy and one of the bartenders.

"What the hell man?" Oh no. I backed up, panicking. _Shit. _I fell, my forehead conforming itself to the corner of the wall. _Ouch. _

"Ok we need to get you out of here." Sam pulled me up and started pushing me toward the door. I was compliant, my head throbbing. I pulled my feet along as gracefully as I possibly could, and walked outside with Sam. I welcomed the chill of the breeze. I shut my eyes and let Sam support the whole of me. The breeze reminded by of my heaven. Well, it wasn't mine, but I liked to think I shared it with the autistic man who resides there flying his kite endlessly in the cool spring air. For a moment, I was home, my real home. In the land my father created for his creations big and small, to rest after a life. That was my true home and I wanted to go back.


End file.
